


should this be the last thing I see (I want you to know it’s enough for me)

by becasbelt



Series: zombie au [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Zombie AU, honestly folks I'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23289334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becasbelt/pseuds/becasbelt
Summary: The apocalypse kind of really sucks, but Beca figures she can be at least a little grateful for it, seeing as it brought her to Chloe.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Series: zombie au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801432
Comments: 38
Kudos: 71





	should this be the last thing I see (I want you to know it’s enough for me)

**Author's Note:**

> The combination of my abandoned college campus, the constant overcast for the last few days, and just the state of the world in general has all contributed to this. I never thought I’d write a zombie au, but hey, I never thought I’d have to live through a pandemic either!
> 
> Title from Ed Sheeran’s "Tenerife Sea."

It’s funny how the weather sometimes matches the state of the world.

That’s what’s on Beca’s mind as she walks today, squinting up at the ever-present clouds in the sky. She can’t remember the last time it _wasn’t_ drizzling to some degree, despite the fact that she is currently travelling through Georgia, which really should be sunny and warm this time of year. Beca had expected the overcast in Seattle, but it was honestly just annoying in Atlanta.

Beca blames the apocalypse.

It was an easy thing to do, blaming the apocalypse. Basically everything nowadays was a direct consequence of the world turning to shit.

Stepped in a puddle? Apocalypse.

Twisted your ankle? Apocalypse.

Watched your entire family get eaten before your very eyes as they told you to run, save yourself?

Apocalypse.

So yeah, Beca would say that the apocalypse was definitely responsible for the dreary – albeit appropriate – weather.

The music pumping in through her headphones changes songs and Beca wrinkles her nose at whatever starts playing. She pulls out her phone and quickly skips a few songs until settling on one she feels okay about, checking to see how much battery she has left on the device while she’s at it.

37%- good enough to get her through the rest of the day, probably. Assuming she could find an outlet to plug into while she slept, of course.

Beca knew that it was a stupid thing to do, wearing headphones in the middle of the apocalypse when your hearing is such a vital part of your survival, but Beca can’t help it. Walking is _boring,_ and at this point she’s been solo for so long that she’d absolutely go crazy if she had to be alone with her own thoughts all day.

Did Beca have a death wish?

Possibly. Probably.

Anyways.

It had been… probably six months since the end of the world began; about two since Beca’s family had been killed. Beca thinks it’s been that long, at least. She’s kind of stopped paying attention to the passage of time, since there was no point in keeping a weekly schedule anymore.

But yeah, six months feels about right. Six months seems like enough time for the temperature to go from kind of cold, to _really_ cold, to moderately warm. And based on the way it’s fucking raining all the time, it’s probably mid spring.

So yeah, she’s been alone for a while. Not that you’d be able to tell.

If anyone asked her how the zombies (or _infects,_ as society had so cleverly dubbed them) came to be, Beca wouldn’t even be able to give them an accurate answer. Her step-dad, David, had tried explaining it all to her when it first started up, back when the situation hadn’t gotten out of control yet. Beca hadn’t really cared at that point, figuring it would all blow over eventually.

Little did she know.

Beca supposes that she still doesn’t really care _how_ the disease initially came to be, only that it sucks majorly that it _did._ It happened, and now anyone left alive had to deal with the disaster of it. All Beca knew was that the infects were virus-based zombies, not returned-from-the-dead zombies, and that the disease was spread as a result of getting bitten by one of them. Once you were bitten, you had about three or four days before you inevitably succumbed to the madness.

Supposedly, at least. Beca had never exactly stuck around long enough to watch someone become an infect, so she had to take other’s words for it.

Beca’s surroundings slowly start shifting into more familiar buildings. Beca has only been to Barden University a small handful of times, but luckily she still somewhat remembers the area’s layout.

After her family died, Beca had decided to head to her dad’s house. It probably wasn’t her smartest decision- travelling solo across the country from Seattle to Atlanta and all that. There was no guarantee that he was still in the area, let alone even _alive._ Still, Seattle, being a big city, had been pretty overrun with infects, which meant that Beca had no choice but to leave. With no other options presenting themselves, Beca figured going to Atlanta wasn’t such a bad idea.

The journey had actually been easier than she initially thought it would be. Beca had gotten pretty good at jumpstarting cars, so she didn’t have to walk all 2,636 miles, and as long as she avoided big cities she didn’t have to worry too much about zombie raids.

Still, that being said, the journey had epically sucked.

Even though she didn’t have to walk the _entire_ way, she still had walked a _lot._ She’d still had to fight infects off, too, even if she did avoid the worst of them. The only exception to that was The University of Idaho. It had been a _mess_ when she passed through, forcing Beca to wait out a swarm of infects for a while before eventually fighting her way free.

Fucking Idaho.

So while Beca wasn’t exactly _stoked_ to be back on a college campus, she is beyond relieved to have finally reached at her destination.

Beca passes a few abandoned apartment complexes, keeping a watchful eye on the doorways and windows for any movement and trying not to think about the fact that these were all full of young college hopefuls only a few months ago.

The main part of Barden’s campus is only a few more minutes away. Beca arrives at one end of the campus, which also happens to be the side that the music building is on. The only reason Beca knows this is as a result of the one campus tour that her dad made her go on last year, when he hadn’t yet given up hope on her attending college.

It’s not like her education choices mattered anymore, anyways.

Beca's stomach grows and she notes that the sun is already starting to dip in the sky slightly. Vaguely recalling that there was a café in the music building from the tour, Beca heads there in search of food. She pauses her music and tugs her headphones around her neck, figuring that it might be best to be able to hear once inside.

The doors are luckily easy to open with a few hard tugs, so Beca kicks some debris away from the entrance and makes her way inside. Beca clicks on her mini flashlight as she walks down dark hallways, keeping her eye out for signs leading to the café. If there was no food left to salvage, she would just have to hope that her dad’s house had something to eat.

The hallway opens up to a common area for practice rooms, which makes Beca slow down her pace to make sure no infects pop out from one of the vacant rooms. She places a hand on the gun stuck in the back of her pants and holds still for a moment, straining her ears for any sounds of shuffling or groaning. When she hears none, Beca relaxes begins and walking again, only for her flashlight to shine on something that catches her attention.

A piano, sitting alone and forgotten in one of the practice rooms. Apart from a few nasty cuts along the wood paneling, it looks relatively fine; not like something you’d expect to see in the middle of the apocalypse. Beca creeps towards it, intrigued and a little excited. Looking around one more time to make sure she was truly alone, Beca places her flashlight between her teeth and moves to sit on the piano’s bench.

This was another one of her decidedly not so great ideas, but Beca didn’t really care. Again, she _probably_ had a death wish.

Beca turns on her phone’s flashlight for extra sight and takes her other light out of her mouth, placing both on the piano’s music rack. Adrenaline floods through Beca’s fingers as she starts to play, excited to finally be doing an activity that she used to love so much. Eventually she starts singing along to her playing, the words to “Titanium” flowing easily from her.

So engrossed in her playing as she is, Beca doesn’t notice the figure creeping stealthily toward her in the darkness. She’s just about finished with her song when a sudden voice interrupts her.

“You have a really lovely voice for someone so stupid, you know.”

Beca jumps a foot in the air, spinning to face the doorway of the practice room and nearly falling off the bench in the process. Her gun is in her hands in a second, pointing at the silhouette standing in the doorway. “Dude!” she yelps.

The person giggles and moves to be more in the light, revealing an attractive girl around Beca’s age with ginger hair and toned arms. “I’m not one of them, you know. If I was, I wouldn’t be talking and _you_ would be dead.”

Beca scowls and lowers her gun, her hands still visibly shaking. “A little warning would be nice,” she grumbles.

“Sorry,” the girl says with a smirk, not sounding very sorry at all. “Next time I’ll start playing a trumpet down the hall to announce my presence.”

Unsure of what to say to that, Beca just rolls her eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“You were singing ‘Titanium’, right?” the stranger asks, seemingly moving on from the previous topic.

“You know David Guetta?” Beca asks in reply, still recovering from the feeling of all her senses going into overdrive at once.

The girl chuckles. “It’s the apocalypse, not the 1800’s. Of course I know David Guetta.”

“Oh,” Beca says lamely, blushing slightly.

“What’s your name?” the girl inquires.

“Beca. And yours?”

She smiles. “I’m Chloe. Are you new to the area? I haven’t seen you around before.”

Beca nods. “Um, yeah. I came here looking for my dad.”

Chloe looks around. “And you’re obviously doing a bang-up job of finding him,” she quips with that smirk again. Beca starts to protest, but her growling stomach cuts her off abruptly. Chloe raises an eyebrow at her, thinking for a moment before saying, “Well, it’s getting dark outside, so it’s kind of too dangerous for you to keep looking now anyways. Why don’t you come back to my place with me and we can get you something to eat?”

A hand is offered out to Beca, and Beca spares a moment to think whether to accept or not. It’s not like she had a deadline to reach her dad, and this girl _has_ just offered to feed her, so Beca shrugs and takes her hand. Chloe pulls her to her feet and Beca collects her phone and flashlight before following Chloe back into the hall.

* * *

Chloe leads her across campus to the student housing by the lake, reaching their destination just as it’s beginning to get fully dark outside. The house they arrive at is large- probably some sort of sorority house back when classes were still going. Beca is surprised when they walk through the front door and are immediately met with the sounds of several people from the other room

“Hey guys, I picked up a stray,” Chloe calls as she locks and bolts the front door. Beca timidly follows her into the front room to see about half a dozen girls either sprawled across the L-shaped couch or milling about in the connecting kitchen. They all grow silent and look at Beca curiously when she enters.

“Chloe, you picked up a kid?” A black girl with pink hair asks from one end of the couch.

Beca’s nostrils flare in offense. “Hey, I’m nineteen,” she informs the girl haughtily. “Just because I’m short doesn’t mean I’m a kid.”

The girl holds up her hands in surrender while Chloe places a hand on Beca’s shoulder. “Beca here is trying to find her dad, and I told her that she could crash here with us for the night before she goes out searching tomorrow,” she announces to the room. “Is that okay with everyone?”

The question is met mostly with head nodding and sounds of affirmation, but a voice pipes up amidst all the others.

“She’s not bitten, is she?”

The question comes from a girl with blonde hair and intense eyes. She stands with stiff posture behind the couch, arms crossed over her chest while she glares warily at Beca.

“Of courses she’s not…” Chloe trails off, then turns to face Beca. “You’re not bitten are you?”

Beca’s nose wrinkles. “Uh, no.”

Chloe turns back to the girl. “Well, there you have it, Aubrey,” she says with finality, beaming. “She’s not bitten.”

The girl, Aubrey, huffs. “Fine, then. As long as she doesn’t eat all the food she can stay.” With that, Aubrey walks past Chloe and Beca to climb up the stairs.

Beca looks at Chloe. “She always like that?” she asks, slightly amused.

Chloe grimaces. “Aubrey can be a little… intense,” she says hesitantly. “She just wants to make sure all of us stay safe, is all.”

“Understandable, I guess,” Beca murmurs.

The rest of the girls in the room, apparently used to this kind of thing happening, go back to whatever they had been doing. Chloe gestures to the kitchen. “Come on,” she says brightly. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

* * *

“Are you sure you’re okay with sleeping on the couch?” Chloe asks for the hundredth time, dropping the pile of blankets in her arms on the couch. “You could take my bed, if you want. I don’t mind-”

“Chloe,” Beca cuts her off with a laugh. “The couch is fine. I’ve slept in much worse conditions the last couple months, trust me.”

Chloe’s shoulders relax. “Okay, I guess I’ll take your word for it,” she concedes. “Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I will,” Beca reassures her with a smile. “You’ve really been too kind tonight,” she tells Chloe sincerely, rubbing a hand up and down her own arm. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Chloe responds softly. She turns to exit the room, but turns at the doorway leading to the entry hall. “Goodnight, Beca.”

“Night,” Beca echoes quietly. Chloe gives her one last small smile before exiting the room. Beca stares at the spot she was standing for a moment longer before tearing her eyes away and focusing on making up her bed for the night.

* * *

Beca’s dad’s house looks basically the same as Beca remembered, save for the fact that the lawn is out of control and the mailbox is knocked over. The sight blossoms hope in Beca’s chest; maybe he was okay since the house still looked alright. She walks up to the door and knocks gently, waiting a beat or two before just pushing it open herself. The floor creaks as she enters, accompanied by footsteps coming from upstairs.

“Dad?” Beca calls, looking around carefully. The house looks worse on the inside: chairs in the kitchen knocked over, couch cushions shredded up, cinders from the fireplace strewn about the carpet.

The hope in Beca’s chest dies a little.

Beca swallows.

“Dad?” she tries again, a little more skeptical this time. Her hand comes up to grip her gun behind her back. “Dad, it’s Beca! Are you home?”

The shuffling upstairs stops.

Beca’s heart stops.

All at once, the footsteps upstairs start moving quickly until they’re rushing down the stairs at an alarming pace. Beca pulls out her gun and holds it up in front of her, hands shaking.

Her father comes creeping into the living room a moment later. Except, it isn’t really her father anymore. Her dad’s once kind features are now corrupted to be almost completely indistinguishable. Pale, bloated flesh covers his body, along with scratches and boils. His eyes are coated in a fine film, the blues of his eyes almost completely taking over his irises.

It is absolutely terrifying.

Beca has seen other infects before- of course she has. She’s used to the sight by now. The thing is, it’s a little different looking at one when you used to _know_ them. Especially when it’s your own father; someone who was once a figure of comfort and familiarity in your life.

“Dad,” she whispers, a tear trickling out the corner of one eye.

Her dad- no, _it. It_ stays standing by the doorway, seemingly plotting its next move. Beca doesn’t know why it’s stalling, most of the time they would have attacked by now. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe that it was her dad recognizing her or anything, though. That only happened in the movies.

This shit is real life.

It takes a slow step forward, and Beca unlocks the safety on her gun. Another couple steps and she fires off a shot at its shoulder, still unwilling to kill it just yet.

Shooting infects in the brain was the only permanent way to end them.

The shot to the shoulder seems to set off something in the infect and it rushes at Beca, wailing in a completely horrifying way. Beca freezes for probably longer than she should before pulling the trigger, blowing a hole through the center of the creature’s forehead.

The infect crumples to the ground in a heap, and Beca follows soon after. She falls to her knees and lets her gun topple to the carpeted floor, staring at her father’s lifeless body in shock. The tears come soon after in an uncontrollable wave. Beca sinks back to sit on the floor, sobbing into her knees and feeling truly alone for the first time since this all started.

* * *

The door swings open to reveal Chloe’s shocked face. “Beca? What are you doing back?”

Beca swallows the lump in her throat at the question. “My dad… he was- he wasn’t,” she attempts to say what needs to be said with difficulty, but luckily Chloe’s eyes sharpen in understanding.

“Oh,” she says quietly, looking sympathetically at Beca. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Beca shrugs and avoids eye contact. “Part of me was expecting it, you know? Like, it’s not like it was totally a surprise.”

“Still, it’s not something anyone should have to go through,” Chloe says gently. Beca smiles a little at her in gratitude.

“But unfortunately it is in the world we live in,” Beca quips with a bitter laugh. She meets Chloe’s eyes and suddenly becomes timid. “Could I maybe crash here for a while? I don’t really have any other plans at the moment, and I obviously don’t know anyone else in the area. You can totally say no because I don’t want to be a burden or anything-”

“Beca,” Chloe cuts her off with a chuckle. “Of course you can stay here. Us zombie killers have to stick together, right?”

Relief floods through Beca. She smiles at Chloe. “Right.”

* * *

“So you guys were all in an a cappella group here before everything happened?” Beca asks over a bowl of beef stew.

Chloe nods in affirmation. “Yep! The Barden Bellas. We were the best all-female group in the country,” she states proudly.

Beca snorts, causing Aubrey to glare at her from one end of the table. “Something funny?” the blonde asks sharply.

“Sorry, it’s just,” Beca tries – and fails – to school her features. “It’s pretty lame.”

“Aca-scuse me?” Aubrey asks, bewildered, and Beca can’t hold back another snicker. Beca glances at Chloe to see amusement sparkling in her eyes. “Synchronized lady dancing to a Mariah Carey chart-topper is not lame.”

“Okay, you’re right. That is decidedly _not_ lame in the slightest,” Beca deadpans sarcastically, sharing a grin with Chloe before focusing on her food again. She can feel two sets of eyes on her: one glaring and the other curious. Beca eats a spoonful of stew and resists the urge to meet the curious eyes again.

* * *

One morning, Beca is rudely awoken by someone slapping her on the leg. She yelps and turns to glare at the offender to see Fat Amy’s grinning face looking down at her. “Morning, Shortstack. You’re coming with me to look for food today.”

Beca groans and rubs at her eyes. “What? Don’t we have food?”

Amy rolls her eyes. “For now, but we have to go find _more_ so we don’t run out.”

“And why are you choosing for _me_ to go with you?” Beca questions, sitting up slowly on the couch and yawning.

Fat Amy shrugs. “You seem scrappy,” is all she says.

Half an hour later, Amy and Beca are waving goodbye to the girls eating breakfast and walking out the door. They wander around for the better part of the day, searching empty houses and stores for non-perishable food items, sticking them in the large bag slung over Amy’s shoulder when they do find something, and shooting down spare infects they see along the way.

Beca learns a lot about Amy over the course of the day, seeing as the girl seemed to like the sound of her own voice. Amy was originally from Australia and moved to Barden for school because the tuition was cheap. Her boyfriend had become an infect early on, so she was a self-proclaimed "lone wolf." She had her own private stash of candy stashed under her bed back at the house, but she told Beca that she could have some “if she was good.”

Amy, in turn, got to learn a little about Beca, though any information she did learn had to be goaded out. All Amy learned was the basics, anyways: favorite color, what she (used to) likes to do for fun, childhood pets, etc. Mostly Amy just liked to talk about herself, though, which was fine by Beca.

By the time they return to the house they have a pretty good sized stash; enough to last them for a couple weeks, at least. On top of that, Beca can honestly say that hanging out with the Aussie is the most fun she’s had in a _really_ long time.

“What’s up, Pitches?” Amy yells as she walks through the front door. She holds her bag up in victory. “Shawshank here got us some grub!”

Beca winces. Maybe she shouldn’t have told Amy about that one time she got arrested.

There are cheers as a response to Amy’s announcement, which Amy accepts not-so humbly. She pats Beca on the back with nearly enough force to knock her over while Beca waves off everyone’s praises, heading to the kitchen to help put food away.

Chloe stands by the stovetop, stirring something in a pot when Beca enters. Beca is startled when Chloe rushes to her, throwing her arms around Beca in a hug. “I’m glad you guys made it home safe,” Chloe murmurs into Beca’s shoulder.

Beca’s arms stop flailing and wrap tightly around Chloe’s back, breathing in Chloe’s scent. Chloe smells clean- like soap and lavender shampoo and _safety._

“Me too,” Beca whispers.

* * *

“You know what I miss the most?” Stacie asks loudly, flopping down on the couch next to Beca. Chloe from the other end of the couch looks up from her book, a knowing look on her face.

Alright, Beca will bite. “What do you miss the most?”

“Sex,” Stacie laments without shame.

“Is that a declaration?” Beca quips with a quirked brow.

“It’s an invitation, if you play your cards right,” Stacie flirts, wiggling her eyebrows at Beca.

Beca blushes. “I don’t- I mean, that’s nice- uh, I’m not sure,” she splutters, avoiding eye contact.

“She’s joking!” Chloe jumps in quickly. She raises an eyebrow at Stacie. “Stacie’s just horny and is looking for a way to make Aubrey jealous in hopes that she finally agrees to have sex with her.”

Aubrey scoffs from the kitchen.

Stacie shrugs with a mischievous grin on her face, gaze locking in on Aubrey. “Maybe she’s right, maybe she’s not,” she says slyly with a wink, causing Aubrey to scoff again, though the reddening of her cheeks defeats the affect. Stacie looks back at Beca. “I was joking, though,” she tells her more seriously. “I won’t _actually_ flirt with you. I wouldn’t do that to poor Chloe over there.”

Now it’s Chloe’s turn to blush, though the girl doesn’t say anything. She just puts her head down and goes back to her book.

Beca watches Chloe for a moment. “Interesting,” she murmurs to herself.

* * *

Beca has just gotten out of the downstairs shower and is in the process of towel drying her still damp hair when she glances out one of the windows in the front room. She spots a red-haired figure sitting on the steps leading up to the front door and frowns in curiosity. Beca looks around to make sure no one else is downstairs yet before hanging up her towel in the bathroom and heading outside, grabbing her phone and jacket along the way.

Chloe’s head doesn’t turn to look at Beca when she slowly pulls the front door closed behind her, but it does when Beca clears her throat. “Oh um, hey, Beca,” Chloe says, surprised to see her. Her hands come up to swipe under her eyes and she sniffs a little, shaking her head slightly. “What’s up?”

Beca’s brow wrinkles in concern, but chooses not to address the way Chloe was obviously crying just now. “It’s kind of chilly out here,” she says instead, holding out her jacket to Chloe.

A grateful smile appears on Chloe’s face. “Thank you,” she says gently, accepting the jacket and shrugging it on. Beca sinks down on the steps beside Chloe, looking out across the lake in front of them.

“Nice view,” she comments conversationally. Chloe hums in agreement. It really is, too. The sunrise reflects off the water, creating a pleasant morning glow that Beca rarely gets to experience since she enjoys sleeping in so much. The only sounds around them come from the light breeze against the lake’s surface and the cicadas' morning buzzing.

It’s peaceful, Beca thinks. Serene.

Beca glances down at Chloe's feet on the step below to see a picture of Chloe with a few people who look eerily similar in it. Her family, if Beca were to guess. That must be the reason behind her tears, then.

A lump forms in Beca’s own throat, completely understanding the feeling of missing your family.

Chloe’s eyes are still trained on the lake and sunrise, and Beca notices that her eyes still look a little glassy. Beca’s mind starts searching frantically for ways to ease the other girl’s pain.

“I never told you why I came here, did I?” Is what Beca decides to start with, looking back over the water. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Chloe turn to look at her.

“You came here to find you dad, right?” she asks, sounding confused.

Beca nods her head. “That’s part of it, yeah,” she agrees, resting her elbows on her knees and lacing her fingers together. “But there’s more to it.”

Chloe sits up a little out of curiosity, but remains silent, waiting for Beca to continue.

“I’m originally from Seattle. Born and raised and all that,” Beca begins after a moment. “I was living there with my mom, step-dad, and little brother Jack when the outbreak started. My step-dad was pretty prepared for the whole epidemic, actually. He was super on top of getting enough food supply and fortifying our house to keep us protected.” Beca chuckles a bit. “We all thought he was crazy, but that bastard actually had the right idea.”

Chloe lets out a little laugh from beside her, which causes Beca to glance at her, grateful to hear the small sound of happiness. Beca catches herself staring and clears her throat, looking down at her hands before continuing her story. “We were all pretty set and got by without too much trouble for the first few months. Then one night we had a break in our defenses and the infects just started flooding in.”

Beca remembers the night vividly. Her mom shaking her awake in the middle of the night, telling her to grab her emergency bag and that they needed to get out of the house. Beca shooting down infects to get downstairs to meet up with David and Jack, only to find them already overwhelmed. Watching as her mom tried to save them to no avail, getting swarmed herself as she told Beca to get out and save herself. Beca doing exactly that, the sounds of her family’s screams fading behind her as she escaped into the night alone.

A shudder runs through Beca’s spine as she is wrenched out of the memory, and Beca takes a deep breath to center herself again. “I was the only one to make it out alive,” Beca says shakily. She exhales for a long second before looking at Chloe with a sad smile on her face. “Part of me is glad they’re gone though, you know? At least they don’t have to live in such a shitty world anymore.” Beca shakes her head slowly. “But _man_ I miss them sometimes.”

Chloe looks at Beca sympathetically before speaking. “I’m so sorry you had to through losing them all like that, your father included.” Chloe’s hand comes up to cover both of Beca’s briefly. “But thank you for telling me that. I’ve been missing my family lately, and knowing that you understand the feeling so well is so nice to hear.”

The corner of Beca’s mouth lifts a little. “Us survivors have to do what we can for each other, you know?”

Chloe’s eyes crinkle at the edges in a grateful smile, her eyes flickering down to Beca’s lips for half a second before she turns to face the lake once more. They go back to watching the sunrise in silence for a while before Chloe speaks up again. “I see you listening to music on your phone a lot.”

Beca shrugs. “It’s a good way to keep the inner demons at bay.”

“Play something for me?” Chloe requests timidly, biting her bottom lip hopefully.

There is no hesitation in Beca’s movements when she pulls her phone out, swiping at the screen to find a song. Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zone’s “Home” starts playing a moment later, and Beca sets the phone down on the step next to her. Chloe sighs happily and leans her head on Beca’s shoulder, reaching over to lace her fingers with Beca’s.

Beca lets out a content sigh of her own, resting her head against red curls and praying that this feeling of peace will never go away.

* * *

It’s late at night, and Beca really should be getting some sleep.

But also, staying up and talking with Chloe is pretty great, and it’s not like she has anywhere to be tomorrow anyways.

All the other girls were already in bed, but Chloe and Beca had gotten around to talking and somehow didn’t ever get to the stopping part. Chloe had started the evening sitting a few cushions away from where Beca was sitting, but as time passed that space had magically diminished until they were right next to each other. Beca wasn’t sure exactly who it was that kept sliding closer – probably both of them, if she was being honest – but she found that she really didn’t care. So now they sat on the couch, cuddled up with only the soft glow of the fireplace illuminating the room.

Chloe sits sideways on the couch, her bent legs covering Beca’s, who is sitting with her back resting against the back of the couch. One of Beca’s hands is held captive by both of Chloe’s, the ginger playing with her fingers idly as they talk.

Maybe the fingers of Beca’s other hand trail lazily up and down the length of Chloe’s shin, too. And maybe Beca doesn’t have a problem with any of it.

“What did you want to be? Before this all started, I mean,” Chloe asks her quietly.

Beca focuses on the feeling of Chloe’s fingers slotting and un-slotting with her own before answering. “I wanted to go into music, be a big producer and all that,” she reveals just as softly. “I was saving up to move to LA, almost had enough, too.”

“You didn’t want to go to college?” Chloe asks, tracing the lines of Beca’s palm.

“My dad-” Beca swallows down the sudden onslaught of emotions. “My dad really wanted me to, being a professor and all that, but college was just never that much of a priority for me.” She closes her hand playfully around Chloe’s finger when the sensation on her palm starts tickling. “He wanted me to come here, actually.”

Chloe hums and looks up at Beca quizzically. “Can you imagine if you had come here? Maybe we would have met a lot sooner.”

Beca grins. “Maybe you would have tried convincing me to join your lame a cappella group,” she teases, tickling Chloe’s knee.

Chloe giggles and shoves at Beca’s shoulder lightly. “Maybe I would have succeeded and we would have made the Bellas the greatest a cappella group _ever._ ”

They laugh together for a moment before becoming serious again. Beca’s eyes take in Chloe’s face: the blues of her eyes, the fullness of her lips, the little scar on her forehead that Beca wants to ask how she got. “I wish I’d known you before this all started,” Beca murmurs, thumb rubbing delicately over Chloe’s knuckles.

Chloe’s breath hitches. “I wish I’d known you before, too,” she replies softly before leaning in to brush a soft kiss across Beca’s lips. Chloe pulls away a moment later, but Beca pulls her back into a deeper one with a hand on the back of her neck.

Their kiss comes to its natural end after some time- could be five minutes or five hours, Beca doesn’t know. Again, Beca has kind of stopped caring about keeping track of time. They rest their foreheads against each other’s as they take deep, steadying breaths.

“I’m glad I get to know you now, though,” Beca whispers.

* * *

Here’s the thing.

Beca was still an adamant believer that the apocalypse was an explanation for everything in today’s world. That everything she experienced was in direction correlation for the fact that the world had been overrun by infects. Half the world was dead because of infects. Beca got a paper cut and couldn’t find a Band-Aid because of infects. Her shoelace tripped her because of infects.

And since Beca subscribed to this belief, she couldn’t help but wonder if amazing sex with Chloe could also be because of the apocalypse.

This is what’s on Beca’s mind as lays propped up on an elbow, tracing patterns on Chloe’s bare back the morning after they’ve had sex for the first time. Another thought pops into Beca’s head, which makes her laugh a little.

Stacie was totally right: Beca _had_ missed sex.

“What are you laughing about?” a scratchy voice asks next to her, pulling Beca out of her musings.

Beca grins upon seeing Chloe’s sleepy eyes peering up at her, half her face still smooshed against the pillow. She brings a hand up to tuck strands of red hair behind Chloe’s ear.

“Nothing, just thinking about how lucky I am right now,” Beca tells her tenderly, her hand resuming its reverent mapping of Chloe’s back.

Chloe let out a little sigh of contentment, her eyes fluttering shut. “Feeling lucky in the middle of the apocalypse?” she teases, looking back at Beca with a twinkle in her eye. “Maybe you really have gone crazy.”

Beca grins cheekily and leans over to press a light kiss to Chloe’s shoulder. “Crazy for you,” she says cheesily.

Chloe laughs. “That was awful,” she informs Beca, though when she turns to lay on her back she’s beaming.

“Worth it,” Beca says unashamedly, folding herself back into Chloe’s arms with a genuine smile on her face.

Maybe Beca should thank the apocalypse once in a while.

* * *

The sound of a phone ringing effectively ceases all conversation at dinner immediately. The common marimba ringtone, a once familiar sound, now sounds more alien than anything Beca has heard in months. Beside her at the table, Chloe slowly pulls her phone out to reveal it as the source of the ringing. The Bellas all stare at the device, no one moving, until Beca nudges Chloe and gestures for her answer it.

Chloe clears her throat as she hits accept and raises the phone to her ear. “Hello?” There’s a frantic sounding voice on the other side, though Beca can’t make out any of the words being said, and Chloe’s eyes widen. “Chris?” she asks in shock, glancing around the table once more before standing and exiting the room.

Silence follows her departure until Beca speaks up. “Who’s Chris?”

“Chris is her brother.” Aubrey is the one to answer. Beca looks at her to see the blonde worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. The two of them share a worried glance before waiting in quiet anticipation for Chloe to return.

When Chloe does come back, she looks completely shell-shocked. Her movements are robotic, as in a daze. She comes to a stop at the kitchen’s entryway. “Um, that was Chris,” she says, no emotions present on her face. “He said that he was only just now able to find a phone that worked, but that the whole family was home in Oregon- that they’re alive.” Chloe blinks and looks up at the girls. “He said they want me to come home, if I can.”

No one says a word for a moment, too shocked to speak. Beca, for one, is having trouble processing it all.

“Well you obviously can’t go.” It’s Aubrey again, and everyone turns to her spot at the head of the table.

“Bree,” Stacie tries to cut in gently, placing a hand on Aubrey’s arm.

Aubrey shakes her off. “No, she can’t go,” she insists adamantly. “They’re all the way across the country- it’s too dangerous. She’d never make it.”

“I could take her,” Beca says before really thinking about it. Everyone’s eyes turn to face her. Beca shrugs. “I came here from Seattle on my own. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.”

Beca stares at Aubrey challengingly for a second before turning to meet Chloe’s eyes instead, which are shining with unshed tears. “You would do that for me?” Chloe asks quietly, her voice thick.

One of Beca’s shoulders raises in casual indifference. “I never planned on staying here forever,” she says, then smiles at Chloe reassuringly. “Besides, it’s not like I have any other plans, anyways.”

The next morning, after tearful goodbyes to each of the Bellas, a warning to “keep my best friend safe” from Aubrey, and an unexpected smooch and wink from Stacie, Beca and Chloe set off on their journey with backpacks full of food and supplies. Chloe looks sadly at the Bellas house one last time from the sidewalk, and Beca allows her the moment before gently lacing their fingers together and leading her away.

* * *

Travelling across the country with Chloe is decidedly better than travelling across the country alone, Beca thinks. It’s a lot less lonely, for one, so Beca doesn’t feel like she’s slowly going crazy. The occasional (frequent) sex they have when they get the chance keeps her feeling loose, and well, just amazing in general.

Beca really has no complaints. The end of summer is here, which means the weather is perfect, too. Not too hot, not too cold, and not a cloud in sight for once.

“Tell me about your family,” Beca requests, picking her way over concrete rubble. They’re currently walking along the highway, old cars not even worth trying to start surrounding them along the long road. At Chloe’s curious look, she explains. “If I’m going to be putting my life in their hands, I want to know at least a little bit about them.” She nudges Chloe. “Plus, it would be kind of nice to be on your parents’ good side, considering the fact that I’m sleeping with their daughter.”

Chloe gasps and shoves Beca away as she laughs. “Oh, please. You’re escorting me across the United States; that alone puts you on their good side.”

Beca chuckles. “Still, what’s your family like?”

“Well, I’m the baby of the family,” Chloe starts. “Chris is the oldest, and I have another older brother named Carter. Chris lived in Nevada with his wife, Kim, and daughter, Keira.

“Your family really has a thing for those c and k names, huh?” Beca interrupts, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“Do you want to know about them or not?” Chloe asks, fake annoyance in her voice that her smile cancels out.

Beca schools her features. “Right, sorry.”

“Anyways, from what Chris told me, they’re all doing fine. Carter never went to school; he chose to go travel around Europe instead before eventually ending up back in Portland, working as a freelance yoga instructor or something like that,” Chloe rolls her eyes as she says it, though there’s a fond smile on her face. “Mom was an eighth grade teacher while Dad designed bridges. Basically we’re your typical American family.”

“That sounds nice, though,” Beca tells her. “I would have given anything as a kid to have a ‘basic’ family rather than a split one.”

Chloe looks at her sympathetically. “You wanna talk about it?” she asks.

Beca shrugs. “Not really at the moment. I usually need alcohol to start talking about my daddy issues,” she jokes, then softens her expression upon seeing Chloe’s worried gaze. “Maybe someday, though.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Chloe informs her with a smile.

Beca grins. “Looking forward to it.”

* * *

“How long have we known each other now?” Beca asks Chloe one night, cuddled up under the stars. They stopped the night at some gas station, and had formed a makeshift bed out of various souvenir shirts up on the roof since it was a nice night out.

Chloe lifts her head from Beca’s chest. “About five months, I think. Why do you ask?”

Beca frowns in contemplation. “I dunno. I guess it’s just…” she trails off, thinking of the right words. “I haven’t really paid attention to time all that much since this all started, but it just seems like I’ve known you longer than that.”

“I feel like I’ve known you forever,” Chloe murmurs, taking the words right of Beca’s mouth.

“Like forever,” Beca echoes.

* * *

Beca’s lungs burn as she runs, trying desperately to keep pushing herself farther until they reach safety. The hoard of infects behind them show no signs of slowing down, their horrendous wails and screeches steadily closing in on them.

_Fucking Idaho._

They’re not even passing through the University of Idaho this time. In fact, the only reason Beca knows they’re in Idaho as they run through some nondescript neighborhood is because they passed a “Welcome to Idaho” sign a few miles back.

If Beca ever has to cross the country again, she’s definitely going _around_ Idaho for sure.

Chloe runs a few steps ahead of her, seeming tired but not quite as exhausted as Beca. This is not a surprise to Beca, who has _seen_ the other girl, after all.

Beca’s hope plummets and her mind starts searching desperately for some way out of this situation when she realizes the road they’re on ends in a cul-de-sac. An infects rushes out of a house to Beca’s left, running full speed at Beca, and she raises her gun to blast it. She pulls the trigger and is met with only clicking instead, her weapon all out of ammo. Beca swears and stoops down to pick up a brick instead, flinging it at the infect and knocking it over.

One of the houses at the end of the street has its garage door up, a fairly decent-looking truck sitting inside, and an idea comes to Beca. “Chloe!” she yells, trying to get her attention. Chloe shoots an infect to her right before looking back at Beca. She points to the house with the truck and Chloe nods, seemingly understanding Beca’s plan.

An infect pops out behind an overturned car about twenty feet from the house and launches itself at Beca. A strangled scream leaves her throat as she’s knocked over with the infect on top of her, pain shooting through her arm. There’s a gun shot and the infect is immediately knocked off of her with a disgusting spray of blood. "You okay?” Chloe checks with her.

Beca pushes the nasty creature off of her and pushes quickly to her feet. “Fine. Let’s go!”

They reach the garage and Chloe is quick to find the button to close the door. It shuts not a moment too soon and the sound of fists pounding against the metal fills the garage in seconds. “That’s not going to hold them for long,” Chloe pants out.

“I don’t need long,” Beca tells her, already beginning to rifle through her bag for her tools. She pulls out everything she needs before sliding into the truck, setting to work on getting the vehicle to start. “You still have ammo? I’m all out.”

“I’ve got some, but not much.”

“Good, you’re gonna need it,” Beca mutters as she works, sweat making her shirt stick uncomfortably to her back. She wills her hands to stop shaking, knowing that if she can’t do this they’re dead for sure.

The sound of glass breaking makes Beca jump, glancing around to see that the windows near the top of the garage are now broken, multiple pale hands grabbing onto the ledge attempting to hoist themselves up.

“Bec, they’re coming,” Chloe warns her.

“I can see that,” Beca snaps, trying to get power into the truck through some wires. “Come on, you stupid piece of shit. Start up for me,” she growls.

A bang fills the garage as Chloe fires off a shot, the sounds of screeching following soon after. Beca hears a door burst open as well, infects apparently having made their way inside through the house.

“Beca!” Chloe screams, firing off more shots. “Any day now!”

“Just a second!” she yells back, right as the engine roars to life. “Fuck yeah! Chloe, open the garage door and get in! We’re out of here!”

Chloe rushes to hit the button, shooting the infects spilling in as she climbs in the truck, running out of ammo in the process. “Drive,” she orders Beca before she’s even fully closed her door.

Beca does exactly that. She puts the truck in reverse, flooring it backwards out of the garage. The top of the truck clips the still opening garage door, and Beca looks in the rearview mirror right before they slam into a sea of infects. The truck bumps over wailing bodies all the way down the driveway until they reach the street, where Beca flips the truck into forward gear without hitting the break and speeding down the street.

Chloe laughs in amazement and relief, and Beca can’t help the smile that breaks out on her own face as she joins in on the celebration, whooping with joy. “Beca, you did it!” Chloe says excitedly, leaning over to press a kiss against Beca’s cheek. Beca grins and catches Chloe’s hand, bringing it up to her mouth to brush a kiss across the knuckles.

“We got a full tank of gas and miles of open road ahead of us,” she tells Chloe, glancing over at the other girl’s smiling face. “We’re home free, baby.”

* * *

Lucius’s “Until We Get There” plays softly from the truck's speaker, connected to Beca’s phone with an aux chord. The stars shine brightly outside the truck while Beca drives through the night. Her freshly reloaded gun sits reassuringly in the seat next to her.

Beca glances over at Chloe’s sleeping form. Her head bobs a little when the truck passes over an uneven part of the road, though the movement doesn’t disturb her slumber. She looks peaceful, her eyebrows twitching slightly from whatever dream is currently going on in that head of hers. Sleeping Chloe is one of Beca’s favorite sights, if only because of the knowledge that the girl gets a break from the real world for a bit while she’s lost to her dreams.

Beca smiles softy and focuses her eyes back on the road, ignoring the uncontrollable twitching of her hand on the wheel.

* * *

The spent truck rolls to a stop in the gravel lot outside of Chloe’s parent’s house in Portland, Oregon. Beca pats the dashboard. “Good truck,” she praises.

Chloe leaps out of the vehicle, eager to see her family. Beca slides slowly out of the truck, much more hesitant. She rounds the front of the truck, pulling the sleeves of her jacket over her hands.

The clouds are back, bringing a slight chill along with them. Beca shivers.

Up ahead of her, Chloe looks back, smile on her face. “Come on,” she urges lightly, beckoning Beca to her with a giggle. “You’re not still worried about getting on their good side, are you?”

Beca stops walking about two feet away from Chloe, her shoes crunching against the gravel. She looks at Chloe sadly.

Chloe’s face falls a little. “What’s- what’s wrong?”

“I can’t go in with you,” she says quietly.

“Why not?” Chloe asks, brow wrinkling in confusion.

Beca slowly pulls back her right sleeve, revealing the deep red bite mark on her forearm. Chloe gasps, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Beca,” she whispers, eyes already starting to fill with tears.

“I got bit when that infect jumped on me in Idaho,” she confesses, willing herself to remain calm. She lets her sleeve fall back over the wound and steps forward to curl her fingers around Chloe’s wrists. “Please don’t cry,” she murmurs, gently pulling Chloe’s hands away from her face.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Chloe asks thickly, tears falling down her cheeks despite Beca’s request.

Beca smiles sadly and reaches up to wipe away Chloe’s tears. “I had to get you home, didn’t I? We were almost there.”

“We were so close,” Chloe says, sniffling. “Why did you agree to come with me, you stupid girl?”

“I thought it was pretty obvious,” Beca says tenderly, hands coming up to cup Chloe’s cheeks. “I love you.”

A soft sob escapes Chloe at the words. Her hands twist into the hem of Beca’s shirt. “I love you, too,” she chokes out before leaning forward to kiss Beca softly. “What do we do now?” Chloe asks in a small voice when she pulls away.

“I don’t want to become one of them, Chloe,” Beca says with quiet intensity, looking pleadingly into Chloe’s eyes. Understanding dawns in Chloe’s eyes.

“No,” she whispers, pulling away from Beca a little. “Just- no.”

“It has to happen this way,” Beca insists.

Chloe stares at the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks. Beca takes a step closer, resting her forehead against Chloe’s, and reaches for her own gun, pressing the weapon into Chloe’s shaky hands.

Beca unlocks the safety for her.

“If you won’t do it for me, I’ll have to do it myself,” Beca says quietly, feeling strangely calm about the whole thing. “And I don’t know if I’m strong enough to go through with it on my own.”

Chloe takes in an unsteady breath. “I don’t know that I have the strength, either.”

“You’re the strongest person I know,” Beca tells her, eyes squeezing shut as an involuntary tear escapes her eye. “I know you can find the strength. Please,” she says, voice breaking a little. She kisses Chloe once more. “Do this? For me?” Chloe’s breath hitches and Beca feels her nod her head from where it’s still pressed against Beca’s. Beca opens her eyes to see Chloe’s staring right back. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Beca takes a few steps back, releasing her hold on the gun and trailing her fingers along Chloe’s wrist until her arm falls away to hang limply by her side.

“I love you,” Chloe tells her. “I’ll always love you.”

“I love you, too,” Beca says with all the sincerity in the world. She gives Chloe a lopsided grin. “Say hi to the family for me.” Chloe lets out a watery laugh at that.

Beca looks at the sky, then into Chloe’s tearful eyes. The sky is gray again, the familiar drizzle cold against her face, but Chloe’s eyes are so blue that it’s like looking into a bright summer day.

Beca smiles at Chloe, one last time.

There’s a bang.

Then black.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry, but thanks for reading the craziness!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at becasbelt if you don't hate me!


End file.
